So am I--for him.

I would give--" there she paused, caught back, it would seem, by some warning thought.

I took advantage of her preoccupation to scrutinize her features more closely than I had dared to do while she was directly addressing me.

I found them set in the stern mold of profound feeling--womanly feeling, no doubt, but one actuated by causes far greater than the subject, serious as it was, apparently called for.

She would give-- What lay beyond that give?
I never knew, for she never finished her sentence.
Observing the breathless interest her manner evoked, or possibly realizing how nearly she had come to an unnecessary if not unwise self-betrayal, she suddenly smoothed her brow and, catching up a piece of embroidery from the table, sat down with it in her hand.
"A wife is naturally heart and soul with her husband," she observed, with an assumption of composure which restored some sort of naturalness to the conversation.